


Casa Atlantica

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Oppenheimer Effect [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: <i>any, any, seasons of love</i>.</p><p>John takes Rodney home to meet his housemates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casa Atlantica

“My housemates will not hate you.” John gazed into Rodney’s eyes, and damn him, because his eyes were beautiful, and he could convince Rodney to do a lot of crazy things with just those eyes.  
  
“But -”  
  
“I know you worked under the Mountain with the same program Evan and Cam were involved in, that JD’s uncle was involved in. Super classified. Stressful. First impressions weren’t so great. That’s okay. They helped me plan our first date. They’re going to like you.”  
  
Rodney thought of the way Sam’s eyes had blazed when he’d called her a dumb blonde, the way she’d told him to go suck a lemon, and he winced. “John -”  
  
“Seriously. It’s all seasons of love at Casa Atlantica.” John reached for the doorknob. “Come inside.”  
  
“Casa Atlantica?”  
  
“Yeah. Because we’re all sunk.”  
  
Rodney raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Bad joke, I know. Come on.” John turned the doorknob, and this was it. Time to meet the family.  
  
The foyer was a wide carpeted affair, though there was a shoe rack against one wall and an entry table, over which hung a gilded mirror. The bowl on the table contained several sets of keys, and John added his own with a soft metallic clink. John kicked off his shoes ( _posting in Japan, never broke the habit_ ), so Rodney did the same.  
  
John gave him the quick tour - two bedrooms and a bathroom down the hallway to the right, same to the left, kitchen straight on, through the kitchen to the den and laundry room. All of the bedrooms were military-neat, which Rodney should have expected. He noticed that all of the halls and walkways were very wide - to accommodate Cam’s wheelchair, he realized - and that there were handrails in both bathrooms and along all the walls.  
  
Something delicious-smelling was simmering on the stove in the kitchen.  
  
And utter warfare was happening in the den.  
  
“Get back here, juvenile!”  
  
“Snooze you lose, old man. Damn, where did you come from?”  
  
“Eat my dust, losers.”  
  
“Just for that, I’m going to fire rockets at your ass and knock you right off the - hey! Who left that banana peel?”  
  
“That wasn’t me, that was the Toad run by the CPU.”  
  
“Sneaky bastard. Hit him for me.”  
  
“Why should I help you?”  
  
“Star! Score! I’m coming after you and - bam! Haha! Right off the edge of the cliff. That’s what you get for calling me a princess.”  
  
“Dude, you _are_ a princess.”  
  
“Peach isn’t _just_ a princess!”  
  
“Should I be afraid?” Rodney asked, sliding slightly behind John. John led him to the edge of the kitchen tile to where the den carpeting began. The den had a massive flat-screen television tucked into an entertainment center packed with enough DVDs, videogames, and gaming consoles for an entire frat house. An L-shaped couch sectional with a couple of recliners embedded in it curved around the wall of the room. All three of John's housemates were tucked along one section of the couch, elbow to elbow and mashing furiously at videogame controllers.  
  
“You should always be a little afraid of Mario Kart,” John said. Then he cleared his throat loudly.  
  
All three men turned to look at him at once. JD tapped something on his controller, and the chaos on the screen paused.  
  
“John! Hey, you’re here. You, uh, didn’t call.” Evan stumbled to his feet, eyes wide. He crossed the den, offered a hand. “You must be Rodney. Great to finally meet you in person. I’m Evan. Evan Lorne. We were never under the mountain at the same time, but I’ve heard of you.”  
  
“All bad, I’m sure,” Rodney said, shaking Evan’s hand.  
  
Evan winced. “Not all bad, no. John has wonderful things to say about you.”  
  
“Nice save, Rico Suave,” Cam said. He hauled himself into his wheelchair in a single smooth motion, arranged his legs, and then wheeled over, also offering a hand. “Cam Mitchell. Welcome to Casa Atlantica, where the men are all sunk but the food is great.”  
  
“Thanks,” Rodney said, confused by Cam's cheerful tone and cynical words. “The food smells good.”  
  
“Someone has to keep up with the kid’s hollow leg,” Cam said, nodding at JD.  
  
This was going to be the test. JD rose up, crossed the room, looked Rodney up and down with a frighteningly familiar skeptical expression. But then he nodded. “McKay.”  
  
“Nealson.” Rodney was proud of himself for not stumbling over the name.  
  
JD offered a hand, and Rodney shook it.  
  
“So, spill all the classified gossip with us,” JD said.  
  
Cam punched him in the hip. “Don’t make the guy lose his job. How’s Sam, though?”  
  
“She’s great,” Rodney said. “Really brilliant. Still being - innovative. And heroic.”

“About deep space telemetry,” John said flatly. The other three rolled their eyes, like his skepticism was an inside joke that had been repeated too often to be funny.  
  
“Staring that long into a telescope without stabbing someone is pretty heroic,” Rodney said, and Cam laughed.  
  
“I like him, John. You can keep him.”  
  
JD huffed. “You said we could keep the cat, and look how that turned out.”  
  
Rodney raised his eyebrows at John, and Evan said hurriedly, “Please, come sit at the table. Dinner will be ready soon.” And then he added, “JD, I asked you to set the table _before_ we started playing video games.”  
  
“If I say ‘yes, Mom’, will you hurt me?”  
  
Evan punched him in the arm.  
  
“Ow,” JD said flatly. “Child abuse.” But he crossed the kitchen and opened a cupboard full of plates and cups and began setting the table.  
  
Dinner was a friendly affair. Cam, John, and Evan traded stories about each other and Sam from flight school. JD shared stories about Sam he’d learned from his ‘Uncle’. Rodney traded some newer stories about Sam, and also Daniel, Teal’c, and Bill Lee.  
  
Rodney was halfway through an anecdote about a botched incident with foreign (alien) diplomats, Bill Lee, and a cup of allegedly poisoned coffee (hot chocolate), when he interrupted himself and said to John, “On the doorstep, did you tell me your house was full of seasons of love?”  
  
“Hah!” Cam pointed his fork at John. “I _knew_ you liked that movie.”  
  
“La Boheme is so much better,” JD said, shaking his head.  
  
Evan began humming a familiar tune. John blushed. Rodney joined in, because he could.  
  
JD sighed. “Welcome to the madhouse, McKay. You’ll fit right in.”


End file.
